Revanche
by Psylocke
Summary: Kwannon is asked by Betsy about her past. (working progress)


Title: Revanche

Author: Lumamistic

Email:lumamistic@aol.com

Website: geocities.com/lumamistic

Rated: R (graphic scenes, mild language, and everyone's favorite violence)

Summary: Revanche is asked by Betsy about her past. 

Characters: Psylocke, Revanche

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Chapter One/Where old memories blend

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The dock was peaceful at night with the reflecting lake. The cool water lapping at the wooden boards made it seem she was all alone in the world. Psylocke crouched down and grazed her hand along the surface of the glittery water. She watched the trees sway in the distance and the ripple effect the water took with the wind. She turned her head expecting that this would be the prime time for her to come. Betsy stood up and stretched her arms over her head and yawned loudly. She was ready for her to attack from behind mainly because that's something she herself would do. Little did she know that the woman in question had the same exact idea and thought of a new plan of action. Betsy started her way for land and some how was surprised to see her standing there waiting. Betsy took a pose with her fists in the air and watched her attacker come wielding a sword.

Wind ripped through her hair as the blade came curiously close to her head. "Revanche! Watch it!"

The lavender-hair beauty simply smiled and returned the katana to its shaft. Simply, Kwannon bowed with grace to her other half. "Psylocke you of all people know that sometimes I get carried away." She saw the familiar smile spread over the British ninja. It would seem odd to her other teammates to see them in battle. Kwannon felt who better to practice with then her other body. Someone who would expect her every move and in doing so block it. Betsy brushed back some of hair that had come loose from her ponytail. "Kwannon I know this might sound a little weird but I was wondering…." Kwannon's eyes widen, "..um..what was your life like before all this?" A strange giggle escaped Kwannon's lips. She stood quiet for a minute then biting her lip motioned for Betsy to follow her. 

The living room felt more appropriate for a story telling Kwannon had told her. The two women sat on the rich upholstery couch opposite each other. "Betsy don't you have any of my memories?" Betsy glanced down nervously, "I think I do but its all in jumbles. You weren't born in Japan it was….France…yes…a small village in France." Kwannon's eyes began to water and she wringed her hands together. "Yes...home."

…….My father was a harsh man who never knew or maybe didn't care about the act of love. He was very cruel to my mother and I so much so that to this day I still can't forgive him for what he has done to us. Ah…he was horrible…a drunk, a terrible farmer, and a bad gambler. I remember so many times when we had to depend on charity from the local nunnery just to survive another month. From I do know both my parents were Japanese but my father through bad bets had to move across the globe to escape powerful men. 

But where my father was vicious my mother was an angel. Oh she was beautiful...probably sent from the heavens. I didn't ever knew who my grandparents were but by my mother I could tell they must have been gods. Life was hard for us but we strived on. When I was eight, my father on an all-night drinking binge came home drunk and stupid. I had put my mother to bed and waited for him to come home to give him a good lip lashing. The seeds needed planting for next crop and like the idiot my father was he had forgot. 

I saw him coming down the dirt road swaying and loudly singing an old drinking song. I saw my father through the window and I gasped. His black hair was sticking out in all directions and all he was wearing was his gray pants and a brown neck-tie. 

Not wanting the fool to wake my sweet mother I rushed outside before he got closer to the door. "Father, what have you done?" He laughed loudly and leaned against my body for support. "Kwanny, my sweet little girl, come to help daddy inside. Good girl." I could never stand the way he called me by that stupid nickname, Kwanny. The word would make my belly turn as it were acid. "You're sleeping in the barn, Father, you're not waking Mother." He laughed again but this time in my face. I thought I would pass out by the alcohol that reek from his breath. "Kwanny, I love you. You always help your daddy when he's sick, sweet little Kwanny." He kissed my forehead roughly and hugged me closer to him. I winced as he tenderly rubbed my small back. He pushed my face up to his and kissed me on the lips. I was scared…terrified. I had heard of this type of thing from the nuns. They said that if a man ever touched me to scream and run for help but it never dawned on me that my father would be 'that man'. Shock came over his face as reality sunk in. He pushed me to the ground and began to kick me in the stomach. I cried and moaned so loudly that in the distance I could see my mother sleepy-eyed running out the front door. I must have black-out because the next thing I knew I was in the infirmary at the nunnery. I couldn't see out of my left eye from the swelling and my chest ached as I breathed. I had two broken rips and a black eye from the man I called father. I stayed there with the nuns for a month recuperating but their was another reason for my delayed homecoming. I was afraid of him. While I was in the hospital he had once tried to see me but the nuns refused his admittance. They were very protective of me. They would sing to the heavens about how pretty my face was. Oh, how the slant of my eyes made my face look innocent. I could sweetly talk the grocery store owner into giving me the food half-price. With my pretty looks I would con the few tourists we got into giving me a free meal and a new shoes. The face of an angel with the mind of the devil. But since my father's attack I gave up that way of thinking. Better to be in heaven with the Lord then be in hell with the Devil or that's what Sister Maria would say to me. Sister Maria was the only one I would tell my secret evil life to. After every conning event I would come running shouting for Sister Maria to express my bad behavior. She understood the luck of being beautiful for she herself had the face of a seductress but unlike me she was a saint. She was my saint. It was she I first told of my father's attack and it was she who forced him away from the convent. I was loved by everyone there and it felt wonderful to be loved. The nuns would read to me when I was tired and sing me to sleep. I would help with their gardens and pluck fruit from the church's orchards. I felt as if this was home and the nuns were my family. The days grew many and soon came the hour for my return back to hell.

Mother must have forgotten about my homecoming because she never showed to pick me up. The nuns wanted me to stay and I wished it but in my heart I knew I couldn't avoid going home any longer. It was near noon when I dwelt up the courage to go home by myself. I couldn't wait any longer it was driving me mad. I had to face my fears and get on with my life. I followed the black paved road to the railroad track then turned onto our dirt road. The French scenery is something I'll never forget. Rich leafy trees towering over my head provided shelter from the scorching mid-day sun. The western wind blew over my face cooling the sweat I had perspired. The echoing chattering from the birds made feel complete. This was something I had never felt before. This was new to me. Nature took its kind hand and smooth my worries away. I absorbed everything around me hoping that this feeling of complete calm would last. I could see our cottage ahead and noticed something out of place. A new car. We were a poor village mind you and even living in this time of technology I still had never seen a brand new car. I stepped up to it and slid my palm down the side of its shiny door. "Get your grimy hands off that!" I didn't even see the man in the driver's seat. I examined the stranger and mutely nodded. He looked like my father but where his hair was completely black this man had the sign of gray at his temples. "Kwanny! You're home finally!" Father must have heard the man's shout because he came out the front door quickly. He came to hug me but I stepped away fast. "Kwanny, its good you're home. See Mr. Lee I told you I have a family to look after and well bills tend to build up." Father must've owe the man money because he never mentions the word family to anyone not even to Mother and me. Where was Mother? I started to go inside the cottage to look but he grabbed me by the arms to pull me back. "So sir, I paid you what I could now if you'd please leave me and my daughter in peace." The man glared at me hard and started the engine. "Yun…you've only paid half of what you owe me," then he winked at me, "I'll be expecting the other half in two days." 

The strange Chinese man drove off throwing dust in our faces. I tugged myself free from my Father and ran inside to look for Mother. "Mother! Why didn't you come and get me! Mother!" I couldn't find her and seeing the look on my father's face worried me. He was sitting at the dinner table smoking a cigar and in the midst of pouring himself a drink. "Where's my mother?" He glanced up at me from his scotch and I could see tears in his eyes. "Your mother ran off with another man." My body began to tremble so I sat down across from him. It wasn't true. He's lying to me. "Mother wouldn't leave me with a drunk, " I spat in his face. Father angrily picked up his glass and was about to throw it at me but instead threw it to his left against the wall. "You don't want to be where your mother is now." 

He stayed mainly to himself for the next couple of days until a knock came to the door. My father told me to answer it while he got something. I watched him exit the room and head down the hallway to the bedrooms. It was normal for Father to hide from debt collectors so I wasn't bothered that he left his eight year-old to deal with the knock. I opened the door to the face of that strange Chinese man. "Kwanny, isn't? Mr. Lee. Nice to see you again." He snatched my hand to shake it and smiled. "Actually my name is Kwannon not Kwanny." He ignored my response and pushed his way in. "Mr. Lee my father isn't ho…" 

"Here she is Mr. Lee all ready to go." Father came back into the room holding a packed duffle bag in his hand. "Kwannon, be good to the nice man and don't make any trouble." My lips went dry and I felt a cold shiver go down through my body. This had been his plan since I came home maybe even before that. Had he sold Mother also. What did he mean by I don't want to be where my mother is? Did she go with him? I was shocked and the calmness that had developed in me from that walk in the woods morphed into panic. I was shoved the bag and the man picked me up. I was too shocked to scream or fight. I couldn't believe that my Father had used me to pay off his debt. His flesh and blood used as a commodity. The stranger, now my owner, placed me in the backseat of his car and proceeded to drive off. I managed to get control of myself enough to look out the back window and saw that the farther we got the smaller my father was. It was like the closing of a chapter in my life. The chapter of my wretched first few years. My father, the harsh man who never spoke a word of love, stood crying at his front door over the one mistake he had ever truly made. I could barely make him out when I heard the gunshot. I could barely see his body fall to the ground dead. That chapter ended with a bang and little did I know that a new one would open with a kiss.

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Coming soon … Chapter Two/Beauty can kill

O.k. tell me what you think- Lumamistic

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